


Hazy

by indefensibleselfindulgence



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Canon Typical Weirdness, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 07:06:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16718677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indefensibleselfindulgence/pseuds/indefensibleselfindulgence
Summary: There's nothing exciting in the mail apart from a letter from his weird, awful boss who Jon hates even if he's only seen him twice. Of gallivanting in Singapore, here's the pay forward. Jon pockets the check into his cardigan and settles at the register for a long day of absolutely nothing.Like every other day.





	Hazy

**Author's Note:**

> Uh Huh
> 
> not beta'd

He opens the shop at around ten today.   
  
The weather is miserable in those few brief moments that he stepped out of his apartment and into the bookstore, cold and damp and Jon is glad to be inside again.   
  
There's nothing exciting in the mail apart from a letter from his weird, awful boss who Jon hates even if he's only seen him twice. Of gallivanting in Singapore, here's the pay forward. Jon pockets the check into his cardigan and settles at the register for a long day of absolutely nothing.   
  
Like every other day.   
  
He has no idea how Leitner pays the rent.   
  
He assumed whatever money the man had had gone up in smoke when the mansion was- when whatever happened to his mansion happened. All of it was explained to him in a dark smokey bar where he did his job interview.   
  
He thought it was a coincidence at first, that it wasn't possibly the same Leitner from his childhood but no, he realized as soon as he stepped into the bookstore. It was.   
  
Jon was mostly sad that he missed the opportunity to punch him.  
  
Leitner owns the building, the store and the apartment Jon lives in, so as far as making up for traumatizing Jon for life, not making him pay rent of any kind was pretty alright. Especially considering central London rent prices nowadays.   
  
He has another letter from Leitner that he keeps taped under the register explaining what the majority of his clientele would be. The fact that Leitner didn't bother telling him any of this in person was exactly what he expected of the man of course. His boss was a coward, through and through.   
  
Around eleven thirty, Tim drops by.   
  
Leitner's letter ended with “Don't Trust The Archives” in big blocky letters, underlined twice and with three exclamation points which told Jon just about everything he needed to know immediately.   
  
Tim brings him coffee from Costa and leans on the counter.   
  
Jon doesn't know how many months into knowing him that he realized it was flirting.    
  
“Good morning.”   
  
“Morning.”   
  
“Any new fun toys?”   
  
“Not since the last time.”   
  
None that he's willing to sell to the Institute anyway.   
  
It's not that he believes Leitner- obviously. Obviously not. But that doesn't mean he can't do his own research and make inferences on who to put his lot in with. And the Institute just really wasn't it.   
  
“Oh.” He doesn't sound particularly upset about it. “Hey, listen, we're all going to go out for drinks later today, so if you want to come out with? Martin would be thrilled to see you.”   
  
He's gotten invited out before, by pretty much every single person who worked at the Archives and that was flattering, sure, but even without Leitner's paranoia, he didn't trust them that much either. They had all been single outings before, never any group setting.   
  
Maybe it's even more of an ambush this time.   
  
“I'll think about it.”   
  
“Hey, sure. That's all I ask.” Tim winks at him.   
  
“Thanks for the coffee.”   
  
“Anytime.”   
  
He leaves just as Gerry comes in and they bump into each other awkwardly. Tim rights himself and then waves at Jon through the window as he leaves.   
  
“Friend of yours?”   
  
“Not really.” He can only maintain two friendships at any given point in Jon' life, and between Gerry and Georgie, there really isn't room for anyone. “Coffee?” He holds out the cup and Gerry drinks it without question.   
  
He pulls a pair of gloves on and punches in his code combination for the safe under the register.  
  
“How've you been Jon?”  
  
“I don't have any fun and exciting tales to regale you from my nonstop, action-packed, riveting life.” The safe beeps and he pulls on the door. “Believe it or not.” He sets the three books on the counter and looks up at the man.   
  
“I simply can't. You? Boring?” Jon smiles despite himself. “What do I owe you?”   
  
“Are you still low on cash?”   
  
“I'm paying you for them.”   
  
“Are you?”   
  
“Jon.”   
  
He met Gerry two years ago when he just got the job, and Gerry just got his tattoos. It was a bit of a sight, the man in all black and bandages everywhere else. And he was rather loud. Lately, though, he's his best and really the only consistent customer. And even more lately, he's been low on funds for books that cost way too much considering buying one is nothing but elaborate suicide several steps removed.   
  
But Jerry doesn't like it when Jon brings that up.   
  
The books on the counter start shaking the table, two Vast and a Buried.   
  
Very inconvenient.   
  
“I got invited out tonight. By the Archives.” Gerry frowns at him, distaste obvious on his features. “If you come with me I'll give you a reasonable friends and family discount. Because then we would be friends. And you can't complain about me feeling bad for you.”   
  
“Are you... holding me monetarily hostage?”   
  
“The Archivist will be there.”   
  
“And you say your life is boring.” Gerry sighs.   
  
Neither of them are people people, but Jon's pretty sure if he drags his now official friend along it won't be as bad. Maybe. Realistically, if it's an ambush, Gerry has a better chance of protecting both of them then Jon does on his own.   
  
“I'll throw in a pen.” Gerry laughs and drinks his free coffee.   
  
“Fine.”   
  
“And would you believe we're having a buy two get one--”   
  
“Don't push it.” 

  
…

  
Gerry meets him in front of the store, and he's dressed nicer then Jon has ever seen him.   
  
Sure the restaurant they're going to is a little classy, but he didn't expect anything different from his friend — slacks instead of skinny jeans and a button down instead of a band shirt. His hair is up for once, and he's only wearing three rings, and Jon is a little taken aback by all of it.   
  
“You okay?”   
  
He must be staring.   
  
“Yeah, sorry.” Standing next to him, he's not nearly as presentable. “You didn't have to dress up.”   
  
“I wasn't going to, but Mary insisted. Best foot forward for the Archivist and all.” They start walking side by side. “She and the old one used to date, I think.”   
  
“She's trying to set you up?”   
  
“Who knows what she's trying to do.”   
  
Jon's only met Mary once, and he'd rather not meet her again.   
  
“Did you bring anything?” He asks, and maybe that's too vague. “In case-”   
  
“Yeah.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out two folded pages. “We'll see how it goes.”   
  
“Would they- I mean-”   
  
“We'll see how it goes.”   
  
The restaurant is nice, and Jon feels even more under dressed, but before he has time to start doubting himself,  Tim comes up to them.   
  
“We got a table in the back-” Tim stops and gives both of them a very pointed once over. “Who's your friend?”   
  
“Gerard,” Gerry tells him and holds a hand out. Tim obviously doesn't recognize him from earlier, and Jon can't really blame him. “I'm his date.”   
  
Tim looks Gerry over again, and then back at Jon and shrugs, confused but trying to hide it. Failing to hide it. Maybe if it wasn't them, he would have managed.   
  
“You don't mind, right? You said it was a- a group thing.” Jon says.   
  
“Yeah. It's in the back. Table- Our table's in the back. I think you know everyone but-” By the time they walk over, Gerry takes Jon's hand, lacing their fingers together. United front.

He respects the idea.

Gerry's hand is warm.   
  
“Jon.” Melanie nudges the Archivist pretty hard in the shoulder, and they nudge out of the way to make room.   
  
Melanie stopped by one time on her own, doing research for ghosts. He was wearing one of Georgie's shirts, and it all just took off from there. Then she came by to harass him for the Archives, and nothing really changed. She just seemed angrier. The entire thing smarts of Slaughter, but Jon tries to be polite and keep his opinions to himself when he can.   
  
Basira and her creepy cop friend are sitting on the other side of the booth, creepy cop's arm over Basira as possessively as physically possible in public. Typical Hunter fair. He's not surprised.   
  
And the Archivist, right in the middle.   
  
“Right this is, Basira, Detective Tonner, Melanie, Tim, and the Archivist.”   
  
“Martin.” The Archivist says. “Just-Just Martin is fine, really Jon.”   
  
“Martin, right. This is Gerard.”   
  
“His date,” Tim says rather pointedly, and the Archivist almost caves in on himself. The man looks like the wind's knocked right out of him in an instant. Weird.   
  
“Pleasure.”   
  
Jon ends up sitting between Gerry and Martin. There really isn't enough room for seven people, but they make do. It's a bit tight, but when Jon leans against Gerry, Gerry doesn't seem to mind. Whatever sells the ruse.   
  
“So what's your deal? Cult?” Detective Tonner was never tactful at the best of times. "One of those fire freaks? Zombie?"   
  
“Vaguely related non-affiliate. Like Jon. Partial Eye, partial End leanings. Is Detective a first name or a nickname?”   
  
Jon drinks the water already on the table to hide his smile. 

  
…

  
Gerry waits next to him while he smokes and Jon appreciates it, with how empty the streets are getting.   
  
“Did you know the Archivist was into you?”   
  
“Is he?”   
  
“He very much is.”   
  
“I didn't.”  It's certainly something weird to remember for later. “Guess Mary's plans fell through.”   
  
“Ugh.” Gerry reaches up to pull the hair tie out, and black cascades around his face. “All dressed up for nothing.” Jon smiles and takes a long drag of his cigarette. Everything is quiet for a moment, still and dark, and they're the only two people alive in all of London.   
  
The glow from the restaurant window catches half of Gerry's face in the light, hair already tucked behind the ear, so nothing obstructs his view.   
  
“New tattoo?” It comes out too quiet, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Behind your-” Jon reaches up to touch behind his own ear, and Gerry nods.   
  
“It's two months old- you just noticed it?”   
  
“You usually-  hair down?”   
  
“Oh, yeah.” Another bought of silence. Jon stamps his cigarette out.   
  
“You don't have to walk me home.”   
  
“I don't mind.” It is kind of in the same direction anyway.   
  
It's cold by the time they get to his apartment, and Jon digs for his keys.   
  
“Thanks. Really. You didn't have to come with me.”   
  
“I didn't mind- it was nice to get out of the house.”   
  
“Want to come in?” He gets the door open, and a wave of warm air comes down the stairs. He must have forgotten to turn the heat off, great.   
  
“I'd love to, but Mary's probably waiting.”   
  
“Right.”   
  
“If you have another date you need to take me on, just call me.”   
  
“Sure.” It wasn't. He's pretty sure it wasn't. He stands in the doorway and watches Gerry walk away into the dark streets. “Oh-” Right, he had been meaning to ask. “Hey- what was the- the security measure going to do?”   
  
Gerry turns around, and Jon can see his smile, even from this distance.   
  
“Fill their lungs with dirt, I think.”   
  
“Ah.” He says. That's kind of horrific to think about. “See you around.”   
  
“Bye Jon.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments are always encouraged and very very very appreciated
> 
> please [talk to me](http://iamalivenow.tumblr.com/)


End file.
